


Out Of Breath

by Potion_Against_Awkwardness



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Angst, Arguing, Band Fic, Denial of Feelings, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Crush, First Kiss, Firsts, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Ratings will go up and tags will be added, Roadtrip, Sexual Frustration, Slow Burn, Trans Female Pidge | Katie Holt, Trans Pidge | Katie Holt, denial in general
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-06-18 03:04:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15476235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Potion_Against_Awkwardness/pseuds/Potion_Against_Awkwardness
Summary: Everyone’s just trying to make music, do their job and live their lives. Unfortunately the fact that they're all paired up with a bunch of strangers, two of which can't seem to stop mentally tearing each others throats out, makes it a bit more difficult that expected.





	1. Game Over

**Author's Note:**

> I apologise for literally everything. 
> 
> If TWs are ever necessary, they’ll be mentioned in the tags, at the beginning of the chapter, and will be marked within the chapter.

“Red Lion, who doesn’t know him? Keith Kogane is twenty three and already so successful, we’re happy to have him here. Anything you want to say?” The woman on the radio channel laughed, and a familiar voice responded.  
  
“Yeah, thank you for...”  
  
The brunet changed the channel and groaned. Keith’s newest single shook the world to it’s core and Lance hated it, there was barely a radio station that didn’t play it on repeat.  
  
Sure, it was catchy, but the singer’s rough voice never failed to make a painful feeling settle in his stomach.  
  
He knew he was being pathetic. He knew four years were a generous amount of time for someone to get over something, and coupled with barely even seeing or hearing the man in person he should’ve been back on his feet already. That didn’t stop the way anger rose up to his throat, threatening to spill sharp, venomous words that instead became a loud, frustrated growl, resembling that of an injured animal which wouldn’t back down. His last four years hadn’t been his best.  
  
But he got better. Managed to control his feelings and instead incorporate them into his songs. This landed him his first big album after Keith left. ‘OURS’ with songs like ‘Red’ and ‘Untameable’ having been big hits, the former being a big, obvious ‘fuck you’ to Keith.  
  
Keith responded by keeping the title of Red Lion, wearing it like one would wear his kingdom’s crown into battle. ‘The Lions’. That was their kingdom. Two friends chasing a dream and escaping the world through their songs. That was supposed to be their story. Instead it was rewritten to be ‘two friends who parted ways due to unfortunate events, instead chasing their dreams on their own’.  
  
Those ‘unfortunate events’ happened to be a single piece of paper with a signature. The thought of it still made his throat feel like it was tied by two strings, tightening with each breath and cutting into his flesh mercilessly, leaving him with nothing but choked out sobs and broken words.  
  
Lance liked to wonder if Keith’s choice would’ve been any different, had he not lashed out at him. The firm ‘No, don’t be an idiot, he would’ve still left’ in his mind saved him from quite a few sleepless nights.  
  
“Mr. McClain?” A voice piped up next to him.  
  
“Yeah?” He turned his head to see his manager, standing at the door.  
  
“Have you decided on signing the contract? It’ll be in our best interest to do so, but I do understand that the circumstances are...” She hesitates, “Different from what we’re used to.”  
  
Lance stared at the paper for a few, long seconds, and finally, after days, made an abrupt decision on multiple choices. He grabbed the nearest pen on the desk and signed it, a smile slowly spreading on his face.  
  
“Luna, you’re fired”  
  
“Sorry?” She spluttered.  
  
He grinned at her, “You’re fired. You deserve the break”  
  
Luna frowned in confusion as Lance started searching around the bus with obvious excitement. Being fired and getting a vacation were as different as the earth and the sky. Creatures could live in both of them, but they preferred to stay on land when it came down to it. Surely he had to know that. “But, Mr McClain, how come-“  
  
“Oh my god!” He laughed, putting on a bright, red snapback that just screamed for attention like the bird outside your window at five in the morning. “How do I look?”  
  
“Absolutely hideous”  
  
He pouted and took it off. “Well that isn’t what I’m looking anyways”  
  
Luna sighed and sat down on the sofa. “Can you please explain what’s going on?”  
  
“Just a sec... There she is! Absolutely gorgeous, right?” He turned around and held out a rough looking, green jacket with a white hood and an orange stripe on each of its arms. The colours were slightly washed out, and it looked centuries old, but it held a sort of charm that made anyone want it. Maybe it was the very fact that it didn’t look expensive and polished that made it seem so comfortable.  
  
Luna smiled fondly at it, remembering the days in which Lance used to wear it like a second skin. It took a few seconds for her to snap out of it.  
  
“Yes, but that doesn’t explain anything”  
  
“Alright, alright! I’m gonna join that band that Altea’s trying to make, right? So I wanna start completely new. No more ‘Blue’ or ‘Blue Lion’, only ‘Lance McClain’!”  
  
That made a bit of sense. Like the way a fish enjoying its time out of water did. “Okay, but why am I fired?”  
  
He smiled softly at her when he replied, “You work, what, five jobs at once? Take a break. Go home. Your family misses you, I’m sure”. Then, looking to the side sheepishly, he admitted “Plus, it won’t have the same cool bang effect if everyone knows me”  
  
Luna laughed and rolled her eyes. He did have a point. She missed home, an she sure as hell could use a break.  
  
“Alright, alright. But I’m staying until the you leave. Can’t have you being late again”  
  
-  
  
True to her word, she stayed until that very morning. Waking him up an hour early just in case, and then shoving him into a taxi.  
  
“Are you sure I didn’t forget anything?” Lance asked as she tried to close the car door on him.  
  
“Yes, yes, now go! You’ll be late!” Luna huffed, giving up and crossing her arms.  
  
Lance sighed and nodded, wrapping his arms around himself, a pout forming on his face as he tried to comfort himself. Then he made a sudden decision, climbed out of the car and hugged her.  
  
“I’ll miss you” he sobbed, tightening his hug.  
  
She laughed, but reciprocated. “I’ll miss you too. Now go, before you’re late!”  
  
She pushed him away and into the taxi again, ignoring his whines and protests. As the taxi slowly drove away, Lance opened his window and waved to her. A rush of pride surged through her and she gave him one last thumbs up before he drove away completely.  
  
Never in a million years had she expected to work with someone as complicated and dramatic as him, and she doubted she ever would again. Lance McClain, the blue lion. She’d miss him.


	2. Restart Game?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance meets some new people who all seem pretty cool, and one person who’s not necessarily new, but also not familiar either.
> 
> Or: Introductions!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its past midnight and i need to wake up super early tomorrow please come to my funeral its very appreciated 
> 
> please excuse the spelling and grammar errors and whatever else you find. im gonna cry.

The address they agreed to meet at  was at a high class restaurant with a name Lance could only dream of pronouncing, or reading, correctly. He gawked at the brightly lit rooms, flower arrangements in each corner and a chocolate fountain in the middle of each of them, as a waiter led him to the private room his new boss had reserved.

Two people were already lounging inside of it, looking up when he entered. The second he saw them his mind started running like a dog chasing a rabbit through an empty field.

One was a tall, dark and generously built man. His hair was tied up in a man bun, the ends of the orange ribbon he’d used as a hair tie dangling down, a little passed his neck. A small stubble graced his jaw, looking less like the intentional kind and more like his razor had been dulled a long time ago. Nonetheless, he was still absolutely gorgeous, and while his appearance didn’t call for attention, it surely grabbed and held that of those who bothered to glance over tight.

Next to him was a significantly shorter man, his hair cut short, and big, round glasses framed his face. Freckles dotted around his eyes, lessening along the edges, but forming a cluster on his nose. His eyes were sharp, assessing everything in the room and surely calculating the next moves Lance would make. The amount of knowledge he could feel was hiding behind those eyes was fascinating, but there was something anxious in them too. That something about him seemed prickly, as if asking you to back off but not necessarily go.

Hunk Garrett and Pidge Gunderson, two geniuses on their own accord, and absolute legends when banded together. A year or two ago they collaborated on an album, ‘Rated PG for Pretty Gross’ that, combined with Garrett’s way of making things sound just right and Gunderson’s way of making things feel just right, topped anything else in the charts for weeks. Lance harboured nothing but respect for them and the work they’ve done.

“Uh, Hi! I’m Hunk Garrett. That’s Pidge Gunderson.” the taller one said, smiling politely at Lance. Pidge said a simple greeting, smiling similarly at him.

“The name’s Lance. Lance McClain.” he grinned, sliding into a seat and shooting them finger guns and a wink. He mentally scolded himself for that terrible first impression, especially in front of people like them.

Recognition lit up in the shorter one’s eyes, the grin on his face widening after a second. “Lance McClain? As in Lance ‘the Blue Lion’ McClain?” He didn’t wait for an answer before huffing out a laugh and exclaiming, "No wonder they reached out to you! They’re planning on making us the dream team!”

Hunk’s gasped out a small “oh”, nodding along to what Pidge was saying.

A big part of Lance swelled with pride at the fact that two of his favourite artists recognised his name, the other, louder part perked up at the mention of a dream team.

“Didn’t you read the contract?” Pidge said when Lance asked about it.

“Altea’s trying to recreate their dream team from the 80’s, ‘The Paladins’. They were super big for a few years, but then the members the got into this huge fight and, long story short, they disbanded, the end.” Hunk explained.

Pidge muttered something about how one of the members actually created and was currently the CEO of Altea’s biggest rival company, which turned into a small discussion about the old band, and ended up being a debate on wether light, zero, diet and regular coke actually tasted different or not.

“Okay clearly your tastebuds must’ve suffered in the past because coke zero is obviously missing something important!” Lance said, exasperated.

“Coke zero, It’s in the name!” Hunk added.

“It’s in the name!!”

The second Lance finished repeating Hunk’s statement, another man entered.

Lance was ready to greet him with a smile, maybe a question on what he thought about their topic, but as soon as he turned his head the world stopped spinning and his heart started pounding like it never had before.

“My name is Takashi Shirogane, but you can all call me Shiro. It’s nice to finally meet you.” the man said, and Lance felt like we was about to drop dead any second now, or maybe wake up and find out that the last eight and a half hours were just some absolutely beautiful, blissed out fantasy of his.

But no, the metal hand he gripped for a handshake felt much too real, and the stuttered introduction he gave would’ve never made it into his dreams. There was no doubt about this happening. The Takashi Shirogane really stood before him, casually exchanging greetings with all of them, and even sitting down at the same table as them. Lance was going to faint.

He remembered first hearing about him in highschool. An artist, not much older than him, released his debut album and suddenly blew up all around. People spoke of his music as if they couldn’t and didn’t want to get the taste of it our of their mouths, sang his songs as if they contained their favourite words and created so many things inspired by those words and melodies. Lance was no different. Shiro’s work was one of the main reasons he even pursued a music career to begin with. That man was his unbreakable hero, until the day he was attacked by a small group of crazy ‘fans’. There wasn’t much detail about it, except for the weapons that were used, the fact that Shiro had sustained major injuries and was going on a long hiatus to recover. To think that the next time Lance would see him again wasn’t through a screen or on a stage, but in person.

He was absolutely thrown off his feet and into an ocean of fanboying, panic and internal yelling to say the least.

Thankfully he liked to describe himself as someone who managed to talk himself out of any situation. Wether or not the words that came out were smooth or not was classified information. The point was that he managed not to be a stuttering, fanboying idiot in the outside.

At some point he did actually manage to ask Shiro about his thoights on the coke discourse, earning a slightly confused look, and then an answer that made him groan as if he’d broken his back. Though in all honesty, he’d most likely be crying in that situation. Or numb. He didn’t know how the whole thing worked.

Shiro looked a little nervous as he answered with, "I think they all taste pretty much the same."

"An absolute legend. My respect just skyrocketed." Pidge grinned, his voice shaking in the attemp to imitate a sob.

"Betrayed by my biggest idol. Are you seeing this?" Lance cried out, latching onto Hunk and shaking him.

Hunk shook his head and looked at the other two males in fame disappointment, "Absolute monsters. Look at what you've done to him, he’s heartbroken."

Pidge broke first, shaking in silent laughter before getting louder once everyone else joined in. They all took their time calming down, Hunk and Lance giggling to themselves occasionally while Shiro simply smiled, eyes a bit glazed over. They barely reacted when the next and, considering the amount of members in the original band, last person entered. Shiro greeted him first, Hunk and Pidge followed suit, all three of them having kind and welcoming smiles on their faces. Lance however? Not so much.

It was a surprise he didn’t recognise him from the second he walked in, considering how he used to be able to tell it was him from his footsteps alone. Things had changed, but at the same time it looked like they didn’t at all.

Keith ‘the Red Lion’ Kogane, no additional comments to be made. That was a lie. Lance had many, many comments about this guy, most of which were strongly worded, hurtful, petty or all of the above. But those were quiet things he’d think to himself whenever another one of those hit songs played on the radio. Currently, with Keith standing in front of him, expression so blank it felt like the first day he’d seen him, Lance had nothing to say.

Nothing except, “Wow, you look as shitty as the last time I saw you.” Which, to be fair, wasn’t a complete lie. Keith didn’t change a bit, hair having almost grown back to it’s length before brutally chopping it off after their split up, eyes as expressive as they’d been since day one, and a scar which reminded them both of an absolutely hilarious incident still present on his face. No, physically Keith didn’t change at all. It hurt.

Those gorgeous, dark eyes widened for a second, before hardening. Everyone else in the room gasped and spluttered at the greeting, tensing at the atmosphere those two suddenly gave off.

Lance wished Keith would look different. Rougher, harsher, angrier. Hair cut short, a wicked grin on his face and clothes that looked like he’d just bought them for this specific occasion. He wished for Keith to look like someone he didn’t know.

“And you look even worse.” Keith said, sliding into his seat on the other end of the table and crossing his arms. Defensive, closed off. This really was day one again. 

The next, thankfully only few minutes passed with everyone trying and failing to get both Lance and Keith to join in on the same conversation. As soon as one started talking, the other zoned out, and stopped bothering. Lance felt sorry for them. 

To their luck, the door opened just a bit before everyone gave up, and in came two people. One was a woman who immediately caught his attention, and he was sure that if she were to walk into a crowded room, everyone would be affected just like him. Next to her was an older man who looked quite polished, but radiated energy, motivation and all sorts of good things. 

“I’m Allura Altea, I’m happy to see all of you are here.” She said, voice laced in a strong, british accent. If Lance wasn’t mistaken, she was the heir to the company. “I believe I’m correct in assuming that you’ve all already introduced yourselves to each other?” Allura continued, smiling in delight when everyone gave an affirmative.

“Wonderful! So I’m sure you all already know why I’ve brought you here, but I’ll go over it one more time just in case. Altea is planning to try and create another band that manages to reach the popularity ‘the Paladins’ managed to get. This is why we’ve chosen you five. You all excel on your own, but we are confident that you could go further than anyone ever has before if you band together.” 

‘Go further than anyone ever has before’? That sounded ridiculously cliché, but Lance couldn’t help but be intrigued.

He weighed out the pros and cons of the situation. He got along well enough with Hunk and Pidge, and while Shiro seemed distant, he was still his hero and he wasn’t unpleasant. If they all really were as good as Allura claimend, they really could make it. They really could be something huge. The only problem was Keith. An unpleasant feeling settled in his stomach, and Lance really doubted if he still wanted to joIn the band.

“Of course, there’s no need for any of you to stick around if it’s to much trouble.” the man on Allura’s side piped in. “Let’s say we make a trial period? Thee months just to see how you young lads work together. At the end any and all of you can decide to stay or to go.”

Now that sounded more comforting. A sudden idea hit him and he subtly angled his head to Keith. When their eyes met, Lance raised an eyebrow, and not even a second passed before Keith raised one at him too.

A silent challenge. To what? He wasn’t quite sure yet. But there was one thing he knew for certain.

Keith was going down.


	3. Loading...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s day one, the team bonds and they all choose their leader on a whim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun drinking game for the whole fanfic: Take a shot every time Lance drools over Keith and vice versa.
> 
>  
> 
> I’m posting this super quickly at the airport and this isn’t proofread at all plus I don’t even know the word count. All of this is a mess, thank you.

See, when he fell asleep the night before, he didn’t expect someone parading around the house, playing the same tune on repeat on a trumpet until Lance couldn’t help but get up to ask, possibly beg, them to stop. Sadly he only got so far, the light headache he had tenfolding as soon  as he stood up, ruthlessly throwing him back down onto the ground. A groan escaped him and he curled into a ball, covering his ears as his hangover decided to make his morning hell on earth. Thankfully the atrocious melody stopped eventually, leaving Lance to be a slightly less miserable ball of pain and constant whining. 

 

It left him with a few seconds to figure out what the hell was even happening.

 

He was having having lunch with his new team. Plus Keith. Plus his boss and her.. What was he again? Lance couldn’t remember. Anyways, they were having lunch and discussing the next three months. All of them were to move into a house outside of the city to make sure they were free from all distractions, so that explained where he was. A quick call was made to bring all of their belongings here, so they decided to hang out and get to know each other a bit better, which, for some reason, meant a game of Never Have I Ever and a lot of embarrassing stories once the majority of them started tumbling between the line of buzzed and drunk.

 

But Lance still remembered those moments. Which meant that, after everyone either went to bed or passed out, he didn’t recall that detail, he must’ve gotten shitfaced on his own. Nothing new, but he’d been doing well these past few months, so he thought it was fair of him to feel just a bit guilty.

 

Just when he started figuring out why he’d reached for the bottle, that horrible trumpet started playing again and he forced himself to stand up. So in his clothes from the day before, hair falling down now that the gell had been rubbed out of it from the past day, and a morning stubble he made his way to whichever space his torturer occupied.

 

The hallway seemed so much longer when being assaulted by a headache, and he briefly wondered how he didn’t fall on his face while walking up the stairs, before having to concentrate on not falling down. Or throwing up.

 

His stomach felt queasy, like it was digging into him, searching for a way out through his mouth. Yep he definitely had to throw up. Luckily the soreness in his throat informed him of the long vomiting session he had the other night. Disgusting, but at least he wouldn’t throw up all over the house. He’d rather die than clean the whole thing.

 

Even considering the amount of people living in it, the house was surprisingly big, the corridor he previously walked along continuing past the stairs, which seemed to lead to yet another floor. The walls were a cold and bare white, which Lance hoped would soon be filled with pictures, sketches and the occasional, hopefully removable stain. He’d explore and decorate later, currently there were more pressing matters at hand.

 

Thankfully he only had to stumble forward a bit to reach the dining room, and a quick look to the left supplied him with a view of the living room, including all the information he needed to form his next words.

 

“CORAN PLEASE SHUT UP BEFOFE I KILL MYSELF!” Admittedly he could’ve worded that better, but the satisfaction that came with the immediate silence was worth it.

 

He slumped to the ground and curled up once again, groaning silently. All curtains were opened, tied together in neat bows and unfortunately letting in the sunlight which his normal self dreaded and his hungover self absolutely despised. Like a zombie. Despite him feeling like the embodiment of shit, he let out a small laugh. Yep, hangovers made you a zombie. You smelled bad, you were hungry, loud noises made you want to kill, and bright light was your biggest enemy. There’s also the slow and wobbly zombie walk. Oh, and a guy with a baseball bat could kill you, but that was applied to most creatures around their size. Lance really hoped there were no baseball bat owners who mistook him for a zombie.

 

“Are you alright, my boy? We didn’t expect you to be in such a bad condition.” Coran said after crouching down next to him. Lance grunted in response.

 

“Right? You didn’t look that drunk last night.” Hunk, who was apparently there as well and looking as perfect as ever, noted and handed him a glass of juice and a painkiller.

 

Lance took it gratefully, downing it in one go and enjoying the normally sickeningly sweet taste the last drops of syrup which collected at the bottom left. He squeezed his eyes shut and covered them with his arm, letting a sigh escape him as he waited for his hangover to calm down.

 

Very professional, he thought to himself. First day at work and he’s hungover and lying on the floor, grunting and groaning occasionally. Sounded like a relationship he once had, but that was a highly inappropriate topic. Enjoyable, but inappropriate.

 

A while later, after Lance’s headache had calmed down a bit and he decided it was time to sit up, something fell down the stairs, followed by a loud string of curse words so frustrated and brutal that it could make any man and woman tremble in fear where they stood.

 

“Oh my gosh, Pidge, are you okay?”

 

“Number five! Glad to see you’re down and about!”

 

“What the fuck was that?”

 

Hunk and Coran rushed to the fallen something which turned out to be Pidge, just seconds before a disgruntled and mussed up Keith appeared at the very same staircase. Said staircase wasn’t too big, so Pidge was left with nothing but a few bruises and a scraped chin which was taken care of quickly.

 

Relief washed over Lance, both because Pidge didn’t die from the short fall, and because Pidge and Keith looked just as unpresentable as him. Apparently only Hunk and Coran and supposedly Allura and Shiro were looking as fine and sharp as always. Meanwhile he lay there, in the same stinky clothes as the day before, Pidge was dead on the floor wearing nothing but a pair of illuminati themed briefs, and Keith barely stood straight in his baggy ‘SUCCess’ shirt and striped boxers, tangled hair tied up in a low ponytail to try and seem somewhat tidy. Other than the uncanny resemblance to bags of trash, the one other thing they all had in common was the terrible hangover that drilled into their heads like a hoard of woodpeckers.

 

Much to Coran’s chagrin they spent a good hour or two getting over their hangover, Pidge often making a run for the bathroom during breakfast, and both Lance and Keith having trouble keeping the meal Coran made down. It was then that Lance decided Hunk was the love of his life, because just seconds after Coran left to check on something, Hunk started whipping up some pancake batter and making them an actual meal.

 

The most satisfied noise anyone had ever heard left Lance when he took the first bite, and with tears in his eyes, he asked the question of the century, “Hunk, will you marry me?”

 

A hearty laugh left Hunk and he pat Lance’s back in a way that had him falling forward a bit.

 

“I’ll think about it.”

 

What a man. What an angel. He was going to at least be his best friend until the end of all worlds, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

 

“Can’t marry him if I do first.” Pidge grumbled, shuffling back into the dining room after another stomach failure. A blanket was wrapped around him, covering his eyes just enough for him to see, but also to cast a shadow over them.

 

“It’s day one and there’s already a love triangle?” A feminine voice said, panting a little.

 

When turning his head he was met with Allura and Shiro, both sweating and breathing heavily in their work out clothes. Lance tried his best not to let his eyes roam, and he was proud to say that even in his half dead and exhausted state, he only had one or two slip ups. They were attractive, damn it!

 

“Good morning. You guys ready for your morning work out?” Shiro said cheerfully, mischief in his eyes.

 

Different variations of ‘I would honestly rather die’ left the three sitting on the table, Pidge even slumping down further in his seat to prove his point.

 

Shiro laughed gently and opened his mouth to try to convince them, but before he could say anything Hunk set four more plates on the table, and spoke up “Let’s have breakfast first?”

 

Coran joined them soon after everyone settled down, and they all started discussing the plan for the next few days. The first week was apparently a time for them to mostly relax and bond. This meant morning work outs to get them in shape and to let them find out how their teammates’ bodies work, going out to the nearby town to get more familiar with it, and to just spend time with each other. Allura told them that Shiro and her actually went for a morning run to and around that town, and how they both agreed that this was a better environment for them all to work together. They ended up taking their time finishing Hunk’s pancakes, but after thanking him and putting it all in the dishwasher, they promptly got ready for their workout, albeit with a lot of whining.

 

Lance grinned at himself in the bathroom mirror, hair brushed and gelled, breath minty and fresh, and stubble finally gone. He wore his ‘Alcohol you later’ tanktop, which was a bit ironic considering their many regrets this morning, but he liked the way it felt so loose on his body, and the fact that it showed off the paw print tattoo on his left shoulder. A frown made its way to his face at the thought. It meant something to him. He liked it. It was cool. But now the person it reminded him of was here. God how embarrassing.

 

Swallowing down his sudden anxiety and shame, he manned up and went outside where the others were waiting.

 

Oh.

 

Oh no.

 

Oh shit.

 

Oh fuck.

 

He was not, would never bein a million years, prepared for what he saw when he walked out.

 

See, Lance had accepted his sexuality years ago. Girls? Hell yeah. Guys? Fuck yes. He liked to think BIG. Both Is Good. He also liked to think that, as attractive as people may be and no matter how many people managed to take his breath away, there would never be anyone who left him so shocked, so stunned that all he could do was stare and stare until someone snapped him out of it. But that belief finally proved to be wrong.

 

In all fairness, that shirt and those shorts looked way too tight on Keith, and that higher, neater ponytail was obviously a calculated attack against him. Honestly, when people say ‘Leave some to the imagination’ they meant Keith’s fucking clothes. Plus he had those stupid fingerless gloves on which actually looked pretty hot, especially when he tugged at them with his mouth like that. Keith in general was really hot, and shit, who knew stretches could be so sexy, and, more importantly, who bends down like that, that looks like- Nope, no stop. Bad area to go. Absolutely terrible and dangerous terrain to explore. Bad Lance. Come back later once you’re not frustrated out of your mind.

 

Fortunately he managed to hide and replace the awe he felt with a frown and some dumb comment he couldn’t quite process saying, which in return gave him a scowl and a witty comment which he only half listened to. Keith didn’t look pretty at all when he frowned like that, and his voice didn’t sound pleasant in the slightest when it took that tone. No, Keith was the exact definition of unattractive. That momentary attraction was just the remnants of his hangover talking. Or something like that.

 

Before he broke his head in half about the whole thing, he had Hunk to pull him out of his thoughts with another goodhearted smack on the back and an invitation to join them in their stretches. He made sure to be as far from Keith as possible.

 

This left him with a few minutes to once again take in the outside of their temporary home. It was surrounded by nothing but fields, a row of trees lining up along the street towards it. A few hills rose up in the distance, and the outlines of the town could be seen by the horizon. Shiro and Allura really ran all the way there and back? Speaking of his boss, he remembered exploring the backyard yesterday and seeing a tall tree with a tire attached like a swing. Something about it made him feel like this house definitely was a place Allura grew up in.

 

“Are you ready for your first day of training?” Coran asked them cheerfully after a few minutes, waving an orange flag in one of his hands.

 

They all gave their affirmative, some more enthusiastically than others.

 

“Alright! Let’s warm up with something simple.. A quick run around the fields? To those trees and back sounds good.” He pointed towards a small clutter of trees at least three fields away from them.

 

“That’s a warm up?” Pidge exclaimed, looking even more unenthusiastic than before.

 

“We’ve gotta add some muscle to those bones somehow” Coran said, before raising the flag in a way to say that the conversation was over and the training began. “Ready. Set. Go!”

 

The next six hours were spent with them being pushed to their limits, chased further across the fields and crossing a seemingly random and spontaneous obstacle course. They raced each other, carried each other over higher obstacles, and, no matter if their lungs had enough air or not, they couldn’t stop laughing.

 

They ended up sprawled out on the floor, sweaty, exhausted and gasping for air. Allura and Shiro themselves had trouble sitting up, but they seemed to be extremely determined in keeping up an image.

 

Coran approached them with a grin, clapping in approval. “Just one last lap and we’re done!”

 

It was Shiro himself who fixed Coran with a stare so deadly, a lion would quiver upon seeing it. Coran however simply grinned and explained that he must’ve miscalculated and that they were, in fact, done for the day.

 

“Shiro the hero, make it trend.” Hunk said when he himself sat up.

 

“Don’t.” The man in question laughed.

 

“Hashtag Shiro the hero” Lance said anyways, raising his fist. Pidge repeated it, raising his as well. Hunk and Allura mimicked both of them.

 

“Don’t be a party pooper, Keith. C’mon, hashtag Shiro the hero” Pidge pouted at Keith, staring at him with those big, puppy eyes until Keith rolled his eyes, sighed and repeated it.

 

The hero groaned, covering his face in embarrassment as the younger ones did their best to let out something more than an out of breath cheer.

 

“Guys, leave me alone!” He laughed, and swatted the air in their direction. “Listen, I’m super hungry. Let’s eat, alright?”

 

“Alright, captain!”

 

Shiro spluttered and snapped his head towards Hunk’s direction.

 

Allura laughed, light and just as breathless as the others. “Looks like we’ve got our leader.”

 

“Wait, no, no we have to vote!” Shiro tried, looking at everyone else.

 

A smile made its way on every team member’s face and they raised their fist one more time.

 

“Captain Shiro the hero!”


	4. Load Saved File?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flashback (or, well, multiple) in Keith’s point of view.

As cliché as it may sound, Keith didn‘t fit in. There was something about other people and the way they ticked that made it extremely difficult to connect with them. Or maybe it was the way he ticked? The end result was still the same. He always ended up in his own, closed off bubble for the whole school year, until he was finally moved to another home and he had to do the whole routine of shutting himself away all over again. He believed that surely high school would be the same. 

But it seemed that he was staying a bit longer than planned. Why anyone would adopt a teenager, he didn’t know, but he didn’t ask too many questions. Moving was stressful, and he was grateful for having to only do it one last time until maybe college. Krolia Kogane, a fierce woman who, in Keith’s first weeks there, already showed him she wouldn’t take any of his shit, and definitely wouldn’t let him shut himself off, at least not from her. Keith couldn’t help but be amazed. It only took a few speeches, a small amount of calmly uttered words, to get Keith to finally accept her terms and conditions and give in. His first Summer after being adopted felt better than expected.

That didn’t mean he wouldn’t continue being frustrated outside of his new home. The beginning of the year proved to be significantly more difficult than expected, given that some of the small groups which knew each other from middle school tried to befriend more people, and those who knew no one seemed to be desperate for any kind of companionship. Not that Keith was any different, but he preferred not to act on it. Eventually everything fell back into place, with everyone living in their worlds, and Keith living in his own, very treasured, personally crafted bubble of safety, space and loneliness. He planned on having it stay that way.

Of course life never really worked out the way people wanted it to. 

Keith didn’t expect anyone to see, he didn’t expect anyone to hear, or to even listen. It was after clubs and detention had ended, which meant the halls were empty. Devoid of any hint of human life. He lowered his guard, a foolish move on his part, and entered the music room.

Music had always been the one thing he managed to connect with seamlessly. He didn’t know many instruments, only ever picked up the guitar and toyed around a bit with the violin, but he knew them well and played them earnestly, feeling a sense of pride at the callouses on his fingers. Each foster family praised him generously over every new piece he learned, and he knew he deserved it. But the high from the attention wore off quickly, making him long to have music all to himself. After that proved to be impossible, he decided to just give up before he started hating it.

Still he couldn’t help the sudden rush of excitement upon seeing the various different instruments laid out neatly within the room. He could try out each and every one, and no one would know. But before that, he had to go back to the two he learned to appreciate the most.

Deciding to go with the closer option, he took the guitar, plucking each string separately to hear how well it was tuned. A shiver ran down his spine at the familiarity of it all, and he suddenly forgot why he even stopped. A few notes were tried out, just to see if he still remembered, and after a confirmation he decided to just go for it. Strumming a random tune with a random pattern rarely sounded good when he did it, but it helped him choose which song to play. Seconds later he decided to go with one which he used to play almost religiously since the first time he heard it.

He played the intro and then sang, a small smile spreading on his face as it all seemed to come naturally to him. From the corner of his eye he checked the door, and after seeing no one there, he let loose completely, dancing around the room, swinging his legs out with each step in a way that made it seem like they were pulling him along. Some sort of giddiness rushed through him, the old, addicting joy he always felt when playing. He stepped up on a chair and then on a desk, moving every part of his body as fluidly as he could, bending over slightly when he sang a long note, raising and dropping the guitar’s neck whenever it seemed fitting, and just belting out the lyrics as if he was performing for someone other than himself.

He ended his ‘performance’ with a few improvised hums and three strong strums. The last note echoed through the room as Keith stood completely still, heart fluttering excitedly and stomach twisting and turning in ways that made him feel like he could move mountains.

“You. Are. AMAZING!”

Keith startled, almost falling off the desk as he jumped at the sudden exclamation. A loud apology was said and as Keith turned around, eyes wide and panicked, face most likely as red as he assumed.

The stranger was a brunet, most likely a bit shorter than him, with dark skin and the bluest blue eyes to have ever blued. They held a sort of wonder in them, shining brightly with a kind of awe and wonder Keith could only be jealous of. The biggest grin was spread on his face, adding more to the bright, warm feeling the boy gave off. Not panicking had never been so hard before. Keith knew him. He didn’t know from where, but he definitely knew that face, which meant that this boy probably knew him, which meant that he’d tell everyone about this embarrassing spectacle he had the honour of witnessing, which meant that the others were going to look in his direction, and they were going to say too many things too loudly, and Keith’s bubble would be popped for good.

“Who the hell are you? Why are you here?” He demanded to know, relieved that he managed to hide the panic he felt. 

The boy simply laughed and answered easily, “What is this? An inquisition?” Another laugh left him, “The name’s Lance. Lance McClain. I was just getting something from the club room, came here to lock up.”

Lance didn’t ask for his name. Did he already know? God he hoped not. Maybe if he did ask, Keith could give him a fake name. Like Akira or something.

“You’re Keith, right?” Lance seemed to take Keith’s silence as an offer to continue and clarify, “The kid who doesn’t really like to talk to people? Stares out the window like some anime character, probably broke his fifth pen this week and it’s just Wednesday.” 

Keith felt if he wouldn’t answer, Lance would go on and on about things he either saw, heard, or correctly assumed. He decided to nod, and Lance’s smile softened.

“You should totally join band.” Lance mentioned randomly, and Keith frowned.

“No, thanks.” He shut down easily, finally getting off the desk which he, embarrassingly enough, stood on this entire time. He laid the guitar back to its previous place, and dusted off his pants.

“You could meet a bunch of people. Make a few friends. You don’t have to be lonely, you know?” Lance said anyways, voice casual and light as if Keith had never declined in the first place.

“I’m not lonely.” Keith denied.

“I’m sure you’ll find it fun.”

“I gotta go.”

-

That night was spent dreading the next day and hoping, wishing, praying that Lance didn’t tell, or worse, recorded and showed anyone. 

-

To his surprise, no one even spared him a second glance the next day. People walked past him, as always, skimmed their eyes over him, as always, and only said his name when absolutely necessary, as always.

Even though he should’ve been feeling nothing but gratefulness and relief, he couldn’t help the dread that crawled in his stomach, making him sick enough to excuse himself to the bathroom, simply for the sake of trying to breathe. 

One thing was clear. He had to find Lance and ask him about it upfront.

As soon as the bell rang to signify the end of school, Keith ran to his locker and then to the front doors as quickly as he could, pushing past students and dashing through the halls like his life depended on it.

Then he waited. Waited. Waited a bit longer. Until finally that short boy, with the bluest blues to ever blue walked out, talking animatedly with the two girls at his side. 

“Lance!” Keith called, hoping he’d be noticed. And he was. The group snapped their heads towards his direction, one of the girls turning back to Lance and saying something, but not without flitting her eyes over and away from him every now and then. The other girl joined in and Lance’s face flushed an impressive shade of red as he swatted them all away and made his way over to him, the two of them laughing wholeheartedly all the while.

“Keith, hey! What’s up? Have you decided to join band?” Lance asked the second he reached him.

“No.” Keith deadpanned, a small frown making its way on his face.

In return Lance pouted. “Aww come on! I don’t see why not. Is it like your secret skill or something? ‘Cause if it is, it’s definitely worth showing off.”

Keith stayed silent until Lance let out a whine.

“Come on! If you’re that shy about it, what if it’s just us? As a band? That’d be cool!” 

“I don’t even know you.” Keith sighed, rolling his eyes at the antics.

“But you can get to know me! Come on, give me your number, we can be bros!” Lance was already pulling out his phone before Keith interrupted.

“One, I don’t give my number to strangers.” Lance groaned at the word, Keith paid him no mind. “Two, that’s not why I called you over. I wanna know if you told anyone about yesterday. Or if you showed anyone.” The threat of a broken nose was left unsaid, but Keith liked to think it was obvious.

A confused sound left Lance, and Keith clarified. Lance’s eyebrows raised in surprise at the explanation, but an easy smile was back on his face in an instant.

He slung an arm around Keith’s shoulder, which looked a bit funny since Lance’s arm was very obviously lifted higher than what could be seen as casual. Then he sighed dramatically, “You don’t have to worry, Keithy boy. Your Hannah Montana double life is safe with me.”

“Don’t call _me_ that and.. Don’t call _it_ that.”

“Make me.”

-

That evening Keith told Krolia of a seemingly nice boy with blue eyes who tried to be his friend. Krolia asked if that was good or not, considering how many times Keith had complained about people wanting too much too soon. Keith admitted he didn’t know.

-

“Hey, Keith!”

“Let’s be friends, Keith!”

“Let’s do something together, Keith!”

“Let’s make a band, Keith!”

“Come on, Keith!”

“Keith!”

“Keith!”

“Keith!”

The next few weeks were a repeat of those few words, each time just as enthusiastic than the last, even after having been shut down time and time again. If Keith gave in and actually hung out with Lance a few times was none of anyone’s business, and if Keith actually started enjoying the brunet’s company was also none of anyone’s business.

Keith ended up giving Lance his number after about a month, earning a cheer and the tightest hug he’d ever been given. The next day Lance introduced him to his friends proudly as his ‘new friend’, as if it was the most magical thing in the universe. Lance’s friends were peculiar, to say the least, but he liked them. Plaxum and Romelle. They accepted him into their group quite easily, quickly understanding that his personal Keith bubble was to remain at all times, wether it deflated around them or not wasn’t important. 

-

When he came home that day with a smile Krolia asked him about what had happened. He thought about it for a while, until he came to a conclusion. That afternoon was filled with stories about a girl with dyed hair who spoke of revolutions and riots as if she lived for them, a girl with blonde hair and purple contacts who questioned everything in her path, and the blue boy who had started it all.

-

Lance dreamed big. 

That was something any outsider noticed, and someone close to him wouldn’t be able to miss it if they tried.

Lance dreamed big for himself, for his friends, his siblings, but the one person Lance seemed to believe in most was Keith.

“You’re gonna be huge one day.” He’d say out of nowhere at seemingly random times, eyes always a bit clouded and distant, smile so fond, yet so longing. Keith more than often wondered what exactly Lance thought of to give him that expression.

“Huge?” Keith would always ask, even though he knew the answer by the third time.

“Music. You’re gonna make music that’ll blow us all away.” Lance would say, and then he’d be very quiet, until the skies in his eyes cleared once again and he was back to where everyone else was.

-

The first time it happened, Keith spent the whole night wondering if he really did have it in him.

It took him much later to notice that Lance dreamt big for everyone but himself.

-

“Lance?”

“Keith.” 

“I think I know where I remember you from.” Keith turned his head to the his friend’s side, a smile slipping on his face with ease as he took in Lance’s own grin. Lance’s moods really were contagious.

“Where do you think you know me from?” He asked easily, never turning his head from the sunset. 

They sat together on Keith’s roof, wrapped in jackets and scarves as the wind carried the last of this Winter’s cold air away from the town. They’d done it on a whim one day in early March, facing almost instant regret when they slipped and almost fell down the house. But, being the stupid teens they were, they climbed up again and again. It had a wonderful view, after all.

“A musical during summer vacation, it played Sundays and Saturdays for the whole month of August. For charity, I think. You were the doctor.” Keith said, eyes never leaving Lance, especially now that he blushed so attractively. He didn’t think it was possible, but the brunet’s grin widened in a way that made Keith worried his head would split in half. 

“Why are you smiling like that?” He asked, forcing his own blush down and surely failing horribly.

“People usually only remember me from swimming competitions and stuff.. I’m just really happy that you remember me from the musical!”

Keith wondered momentarily which currently shone brighter, the sun or Lance. He decided that the sun would be a more logical answer, but he was convinced Lance only lost by a point or two.

“I liked that uh.. That thing with the _‘It only takes a taste’_. You were good in that. Your chemistry with the cake was amazing.” Keith teased, still fighting the blush on his face even after the battle was lost.

“Of course I was amazing, but my chemistry with Jenna during ‘Bad Idea’ and the ‘Bad Idea’ reprise was record breaking!”

“Mmm nah. You looked like you liked the cake more.”

“Keith!”

-

Lance slept over that night. That was the same night Keith suspected there might be something wrong with his feelings for his friend.

-

Keith liked Lance.

It took him a while to come to terms with it, and he knew it’d take him even longer to admit it aloud, but there was no question about it.

He stared at the ceiling, everything far too hot for him to even consider sleeping. Lance left a few days ago to visit his family in Cuba, and he wouldn’t see him until Summer vacation ended. Same with Plaxum, who was working at her father’s shop in Norway, though she said she might come back the week before. Romelle was in town, but Keith doubted that she’d be up for a walk at three in the morning. Literally and figuratively.

So all Keith could do was either go for a walk alone with his thoughts, or lie in bed alone with his thoughts.

Did Lance like him too?

The thought alone made him curl up in a ball and let out a pathetic whine which he muffled into his pillow.

_Lance likes Keith._

He repeated those three words in his head for a while, growing more flustered with each second. 

_Lance likes Keith._

If he really did, then that would mean hand holding, cuddling, soft kisses and maybe, just maybe, an _‘I love you’_ at some point into their relationship. The thought of those things alone made his stomach felt like a herd of rhinos ran right through it, resulting in him blushing even harder and groaning loudly.

God, he was acting like some lovesick teenager having his first crush. Which he was. He still felt just a bit ashamed. And he still missed Lance.

His phone buzzed. He reached to the side, his heart skipping a beat at the message.

_Ass Sucker: hey baby doll my sugar muffin my cupcake my starlight my sun moon and earth my air to breathe my absolute angel my future husband my creampie_

_Suck My Ass: Wrong number???_

_Ass Sucker: nah baby_

_Suck My Ass: Lmao do you even know what creampie is?  
Suck My Ass: Plus why are you texting me that shit_

_Ass Sucker: it’s like a pie with cream???  
Ass Sucker: cuz i miss my boyfriend :(_

_Suck My Ass: Oh my god no Lance. Don’t google it._  
_Suck My Ass: (Not your bf but go odd)_  
_Suck My Ass: *off_

_Ass Sucker: rude i thought i meant smth to u_  
Ass Sucker: but ye i miss u cant wait to get back home  
Ass Sucker: not that i don’t like it here but i miss u  
Ass Sucker: and Rome n Plax too ofc 

_Suck My Ass: I miss you too  
Suck My Ass: Whats with the name btw_

_Ass Sucker: were matchinf :D_

_Suck My Ass: *matching + what the actual fuck_

_Ass Sucker: ily_

_Suck My Ass: Im gonna sleep I’m tired_

_Ass Sucker: bb noo lets call u can fall asleep while we do it ur so cute when u sleep_  
_Ass Sucker: like a kitten or smth_  
_Ass Sucker: i just wanna take you home with me_  
_Ass Sucker: iN A NOT WEIRD WAY_

_Suck My Ass: Goodnight Lance_

_Ass Sucker: :(  
Ass Sucker: gnight kitten _

It took all of his self control not to squeal like some schoolgirl over the whole thing, and it embarrassed him to no ends.

Keith liked Lance.

A lot.

-

_Ass Sucker: KEITH I GOOGKED CREAMPIE I WANBA KIKILL MYSEKF IM SO SORRY_

-

It shouldn’t have been a surprise to anyone that Lance wasn’t destined to be this short his whole life, but it still came as a surprise when, before Lance flew to Cuba to visit his family for the summer holidays, he was still obviously shorter than Keith, but after coming back from Varadero he was taller, tanner, and more toned than before. A bit of annoyance struck Keith whenever he had to raise his head just a bit to look Lance in the eye when they stood too close, but at the same time he couldn’t stop appreciating just how hard puberty had hit Lance during the break. A late bloomer, but one hell of a blossom once he’d started blooming.

Jealousy was one of Keith’s main emotions during autumn. Lance looked good, and sadly everyone around them saw that too. Keith tried his best to keep up with it all, but it didn’t take long for Lance to be swept away by someone pretty enough to tickle his fancy. At least he had the decency to feel just a bit guilty at how hard he had to try not to smile when Lance announced that they broke up. 

-

Keith told Krolia he liked someone. Someone who made him feel okay with sharing his personal Keith bubble. After enthusiastic words to ‘just go for it’, he informed her that this person was, sadly, unavailable, and would most likely stay unavailable for the foreseeable future. Krolia comforted him about it with soft words and pizza. She told him that this person wouldn’t be worth waiting and wasting away for. She told him to move on. He tried to take her advice. He really did.

-

“Keith?”

“Lance.”

“Let’s start a band. Just you and me.”

They were on the rooftop again, though it was significantly warmer this time. Spring had made its way to town and warmed everything up in preparation for the unforgiving heat that came with Summer. It was a time for new beginnings, before the heat killed off all motivation.

“This again? I already said no.” Keith replied, though inside he really wanted to have this one thing with Lance. He really wanted this one chance to stay by his side.

Lance looked at him, and to Keith’s surprise there was no smile on his face. Instead it was blank, the only emotion to be found shimmered lightly in his eyes, a mixture which Keith identified as determination, hope, and something else. Something open, vulnerable and honest.

“Please, Keith. I’ll do anything.” The look on his face was so earnest, and the words were delivered so honestly, there was no way Keith’s walls wouldn’t crumble.

Keith hesitated, the thing he’d ask for could potentially scare Lance off permanently.

“Anything? And you won’t leave even if it’s weird?” Keith asked. He needed confirmation, some sort of way to know that they’d still be friends after everything.

“Anything.”

They looked into each others for a few seconds, Lance sending him a gentle, reassuring smile, as if he managed to see the fear Keith felt. Keith however saw no negative emotions. A hint of nervousness, but the rest was just reassuring, confident and fond. Even with all that, Keith’s heart didn’t stop pounding so loudly that he could feel the blood rushing through his ears and hear it roaring like the highest ocean waves. Here goes nothing.

“Kiss me.”

There. He’d said it. No going back now. Hopefully he’ll manage to play it off as some kind of joke if Lance reacted negatively. ‘Haha, just wanted to see if you had the guts!’ he’d say, then he’d ask for something easier, like to have Lance do his homework for a year, and at the end he’d walk Lance to the door, wish him goodnight, and cry into his pillow until his heart stopped aching.

“That’s it?”

What?

“What?” 

Keith expected a lot. He expected a ‘Hah, are you gay?’ or a ‘Ew I’d never kiss you!’ or maybe the typical ‘But no homo, dude’. He didn’t expect Lance to look at him, one eyebrow raised in question and his gentle smile looking more amused after Keith questioned his answer.

“You really just want that? That’s all?” It sounded so simple when Lance said it. Like it wasn’t a big deal. Like this wasn’t Keith confessing something so private that even Krolia had yet to hear about it.

A nervous laugh bubbled out of Keith’s throat, and without wanting it, he found himself saying, “I’m kidding! I don’t wanna kiss you, that’s gay. That’s gross. You should’ve seen your face!” He forced out a laugh or two, and leaned back on his hands, avoiding Lance’s gaze. “Do my homework for a month and we’re good.” 

Uncomfortable silence settled over them, something Keith wasn’t used to, especially with Lance. When they didn’t find anything to talk to, they simply enjoyed each other’s presence. This time it felt different. Forced. Keith wished Lance would just take the hint, agree and leave.

But as always, wishes rarely come true. What he got was a quiet “You suck at lying.”

“I’m not lying!” Keith spluttered, face flushing in shame. “I’m not gay.” He said, calmer, but still blushing.

“Then you’re bi or something. It’s okay Keith. I wouldn’t stop being your friend over something so stupid.” Lance looked away from Keith as well, frowning at the fact that the sun was almost gone. That would be his cue to leave, and if Keith’s body language were anything to go by, he couldn’t wait for him to just go.

“I’ll do your homework.” Lance said, keeping an eye on the sun. Keith’s shoulders slumped a bit in relief and he nodded. The air was still tense.

“I’ll kiss you too.”

“Don’t.”

“It’s not a big deal, Keith. It’s not my first kiss, it’s not your first kiss. It’s cool.” Lance shrugged, trying to make Keith feel more at ease by showing that he was completely fine with that.

Silence was his response, and suddenly it clicked. If Keith really was gay, then of course the chances of him having had his first kiss were significantly lower than if he were straight, or bi, or anything attracted to the opposite gender. Not like anyone was out and proud around here.

“Huh.”

A surge of anger coursed through him at that. Lance wasn’t stupid, Keith knew that, so he obviously added two and two together and figured out what, why and how. That didn’t mean that he had to sound so calm during this whole thing, like it was only logical for Keith to be gay and to never have kissed anyone before. As if it was such an obvious thing that no one wanted to kiss him, so obvious that Keith had to ask Lance for help, so obvious that he’d fallen for his best friend.

“You should go.” He said even before the sun fully hid behind the border of earth and sky. Lance didn’t move. “It’s getting dark.” He tried.

“I can stay over.” 

“It’d be easier if you just left.” Oh no, the crying was supposed to start once Lance left.

“Keith.”

“I’m doing the stupid band thing. You can go.” At least he wasn’t completely bawling his eyes out. Burning eyes meant nothing. Maybe he should buy some eyedrops.

“Keith!” Lance actually sounded frustrated.

“What!?” Keith growled back, sounded even more threatening than the other.

“Why are you upset?” Lance asked, and Keith was ready to go off at him, but the brunet continued before he could even open his mouth. “I’m sorry. You know I’d never try to hurt you. But please just tell me why you’re upset.”

‘I’m upset because I fucking like you and you just have to be so fucking stupid and so fucking straight. I’m upset because I know you’ll never like me back, but you’re still ready to take my first kiss like it’s nothing!’ Was what he thought to himself, but what he said was different. “I.. I don’t know. I’m sorry, I got embarrassed. Are we good?” He sighed, trying to calm himself down.

“We’re good.” Lance smiled at him, so kindly and fondly that Keith’s insides felt like they were being pulled and prodded at. In a weirdly nice way. 

“You really don’t want that kiss though? I told you it’s no big deal.”

It was a big deal. It was the biggest deal in Keith’s current life. 

He knew he should just say no, maybe try and make a joke to make sure that they definitely, one hundred percent, parted on good terms. Instead he took a deep breath to calm himself down, and imagined how it would feel like. A small blush made its way back onto Keith’s face, though he doubted it ever left. He thought for a few seconds before coming to a decision.

“I- No. Yes? I want it. Kiss me.” 

Lance laughed a little at the demand. He seemed to perk up significantly at that, and Keith wondered why for a brief second, before he was being ordered around.

“Okay, okay, you have to face me. With your whole body.” Lance instructed, turning himself to sit in front of Keith. He scooted a bit closer once Keith obeyed, and smiled reassuringly.

He gently touched Keith’s hand, and he couldn’t help but feel flustered at how quickly his heart sped up from that alone. After a quick nod from Keith, Lance interlaced their fingers and squeezed. “Just push me away if you don’t like something.”

“Okay.”

“Close your eyes.” 

Keith hesitated for a few seconds, eyes flitting around to take in his surroundings one last time, before he closed them. He felt a hand rest on his cheek and really hoped that his skin didn’t feel as hot as he thought it did.

“Ready?”

“Yeah.”

Then he felt it. Just a soft press against his lips. It didn’t advance further, it didn’t move. That was when Keith noticed that Lance wanted him to respond, so he did by shyly pressing back. The brunet’s thumb brushes over his knuckles in approval, squeezing gently. Lance tilted his head just a bit and started moving against him, Keith doing his best to replicate and learn. It stayed like that, sweet, gentle, chaste, making Keith melt by the amount of fondness in it instead of any heat and urgency. Keith started wondering if Lance really was as straight as he believed. An embarrassing yelp left him when Lance’s hand moved behind his hair and tugged while he nibbled at his bottom lip. Before he could have any sort of payback, Lance pulled away.

“That last thing. That was unfair.” Keith frowned, trying to stop his voice from shaking. How embarrassing, that wasn’t even close to what someone would call a make out session, yet he was still red from head to toe and trembling from nothing but a few touches.

“That would be stage three. But there’s a bit more full body action in that one.” Lance winked and let his hand drop to Keith’s hip, pressing down lightly. “But if you’re up for that..”

“You’re disgusting.” Keith stated, pushing Lance away just a bit. He shouldn’t get his hopes up. Besides, even if there was anything going on, it’d be way too soon for them anyways.

“I get like that when I like someone”

“Don’t do that.” Keith tried to ignore the implication. It was obviously an accident, he tried to tell himself, an habitual pick up line he would’ve said to anyone. He shouldn’t think too much of it. He really shouldn’t, yet he couldn’t help but let himself believe.

“I’ll try.”

A few minutes of silence passed, thankfully less heavy than before. Keith fought the urge to touch his lips and try and stop the tingle he felt. 

“It’s dark.” Lance mentioned. “I should go.” He stood up, brushing off his pants and making his way to the wall they used to scale up to the rooftop. Before he could go, he felt a hand wrap around his.

“Stay.” 

Keith knew he was contradicting the him from earlier, but so was Lance, so it was obviously fair. 

Lance looked down a few seconds before smiling as warmly and brightly as Keith was always used to.

“Okay.”

-

That night was one of many spent under Keith’s sheets, simply trying to map the others’ body out with nothing but innocent kisses and almost feather light touches. If a few gasps and moans left them during those times, they didn’t mention it to each other.

That night was one of many during which Keith let himself believe that maybe Lance liked him back.

-

Keith told Krolia of the blue boy who made his heart flutter, and how he believed that he made this blue boy’s heart flutter as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There might be more than 18 chapters, but I’m not sure. 18 is just the amount I have planned out, if some seem too long/I have extra ideas, I’ll write more :’


	5. Start New Game?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith, his mom and road trips! Or at least, planning them.

These days Keith talked to Krolia about different things, in different ways as well. What had once hour long conversations about anything that crossed their minds, turned into short, five minute ones which mostly repeated the same four questions. ‘How are you?’ ‘Are you being the man I raised you to be?’ ‘When will you be coming over to visit?’ ‘Are you happy?’. Their answers were more or less the same each time as well. ‘I’m good.’ ‘Of course, Krolia.’ ‘I don’t know, I don’t really have time right now..’ ‘...I don’t know.’

One thing Keith noticed from his first week as a member of this new, currently still nameless, band was that, after a morning of gruelling ‘bonding activities’, they had the rest of the day to do pretty much anything they wanted to. Pidge and Hunk tended to team up, as did Allura and Shiro. Lance switched groups every few hours, clinging to Shiro with starry eyes, flirting with Allura as if his mouth simply couldn’t close, ironically teasing Hunk about some nerdy reference he would’ve made as well, and lightheartedly arguing with Pidge about why who should be what or where or how. Every now and then he passed Keith with a glare, occasionally commenting on something that never really mattered and never really stuck. 

Keith spent his time messaging his mother, asking if she was free to call for a while, telling her that he’d missed her. A quick explanation of why, followed by a promise of when had them agreeing to call on Saturday in the evening.

“Hey, mom.”

“Hello, Keith.” 

As much as he’d deny it, he was ready to sob upon hearing her voice after weeks of silence. He’d missed her so much, still did, and finally, finally hearing her again almost broke down his walls. Almost. The bricks and cement he’d used to build them were made of anger and fear, and while the walls reached high enough that they should’ve tumbled on their own already, they were supported and rooted deep within both healthy and unhealthy coping mechanisms. Sturdy, high walls which could never be broken, never be climbed over. They could only be opened, and even then it took finding a secret door and having the correct materials to do so. 

“How are you? How was your first week?” No matter how warm and welcoming, his mother’s voice had always had that cold edge to it, hinting at the unbreakable ice walls she too had built around herself. It took years, but Keith eventually found a way to climb over, only to be met with another wall. He supposed he picked that trait up from her. 

“I’m good. Everything’s good.” 

With a few well placed questions on Krolias side, Keith started telling her about everything that had happened. He told her of his four team members, the great Shirogane, Hunk, Pidge, and someone who ‘reminded him of something’, but whose name he didn’t mention. He told her about Coran and Allura, how they made them train themselves to death each morning. Krolia laughed at that, and asked him what exactly ‘training’ meant in this scenario. A quick retell of the many obstacle courses and games made Krolia chuckle and say that she was sure they needed it.

“What about you? Where were you these past few weeks?” Keith asked, letting himself fall backwards onto his bed. On the other side of the line Krolia sighed.

“Work. Some client got himself into deep shit, felt like I was literally pulling him out of it. Kolivan got sick, so I took over for a while and got some of his clients and a bunch of his paperwork.” She groaned and Keith could only pity her. “But he’s fine now and I got some extra pay.”

She complained a bit more about the past few weeks, growling about the disrespect she had faced and sighing tiredly after every mention about a client. Her voice did seem to light up when Keith asked about any new trainees, telling him of two new ones which showed potential Krolia could only have dreamed of seeing. 

“When are you coming home?” 

With a sigh he stared at the small calendar he’d hung on the wall a few days ago. “Dunno, not in the next three months.” He frowned, upset at their lack of time. “You could come over? I’m sure we have room somewhere.” 

“I guess I could take a week off..” A few odd sounds were heard on the other line, Keith could only guess that she was flipping the pages of a calendar. ”Maybe have Kolivan cover for me.” She joked.

“Solid plan. By the way, tell him I said hi. Ulaz and Thace too. And Antok. Don’t forget-“ “Basically the whole department.” She interrupted him, amusement clear in her words. A bit embarrassed, he stuttered out a small confirmation, laughing sheepishly at how obvious he was.

Back when Krolia had first adopted him as a moody little fourteen year old brat, she practically forced him to come to work with her. He never quite figured out what they even did there, considering that one part of those absolutely jacked people typed rapidly on a computer, while the other part trained in a private gym, and a small bunch of them discussed things over coffee in either casual voices or hushed whispers. All he managed to figure out was that 1) Krolia and her team called themselves the ‘Blade of Marmora’ which was badass as fuck, 2) it was apparently extremely secretive and important, and 3) Krolia used to be Kolivan’s second in command, until she stepped down in favour of Antok, a man she herself had trained and recommended. Keith never really knew what to do when he was there, though he eventually settled on doing his homework and doodling on his notes. Sometimes the members let him look over their simpler work and ask questions, or those that were free took him out for ice cream when his mother was at a meeting. The ice cream outings which edgy, emo, teen him had called bribery, made him grow quite fond of each and every one of the members, and in return they grew so fond of Keith that they practically insisted to be his ‘uncles’. Weird place.

The next words out of his mother’s mouth snapped him back to reality while also almost giving him six heart attacks. The way he choked on his spit probably gave him the need for medical attention. “Now, tell me about the boy you like.” Krolia seemed to actually purr.

“I don’t like anyone.” Because denial was obviously the easiest option in this scenario. Though in the end, did he really deny anything that was true? No. It took a while, but he was absolutely convinced that any feelings he had left for Lance were gone. As if they were never there to begin with. For fucks sake, it had been four years.

Another laugh, “Don’t bullshit me, Keith.” 

“I’m not. I don’t like anyone.”

“Mhm.. Then who’s the no name guy?” 

Another sigh left Keith. He was familiar with this scenario, had been in and out of it for the last eight years of his life. No matter how many ways you try to take, in the end there were only two options. You either lower your shield and admit defeat, or continue fighting a losing battle against swords made of sharp, calculated words and shields made of stubbornness and confidence. In a way his mother’s way of taking apart someone with nothing but a few sentences was amazing, but after being on the receiving end for quite some time, it was annoying and, in all honesty, still a bit terrifying.

“It’s Lance.” He bites out, a bit uncomfortable. His mother made a small noise of surprise. After a request to repeat the name, and a confirmation if it being that same Lance, she sighed.

“I’m sorry, Keith.”

“It’s okay! I’m over it, it’s fine. He’s really annoying now anyways.” Keith thought for a moment before admitting, “I kinda miss him.” 

Krolia hummed and said, “I hope you guys work things out. Tell him I said hi, alright? I miss him too.”

The mood lifted easily with them dropping the topic and moving on to something else. Laughter bubbled out of Keith as Krolia scolded him for cheekily asking when or if she’d ever ‘get some’.

 

-

 

Sunday morning was bliss.

Absolute, pure, complete, bliss. 

Warm rays of sunshine shone into his room, slightly dulled by the curtain in front of it, casting it all in soft, orange light. Keith remembered having woken up to them earlier that day, but couldn’t bring himself to care when the room was so pleasantly air conditioned, and his bed felt like a nest of feathers and warmth and happy thoughts.

Coran told them the day before that Sunday was their off day, which meant that Keith was indefinitely content with just basking in the glory of waking up during what was probably around noon in his own little safe space.

He’d used the past few afternoons to settle down and make everything feel just a bit more homey, if only to take away the edge he felt surrounded by white walls. He’d never really felt at home when the only thing surrounding him was white, white, white. It was one of the main reasons he’d tried running away from Krolia the first three weeks he’d been there. Eventually the problem was solved when she set down a few paint buckets and they painted a buch of planets, aliens and spaceships onto the walls.

On his desk was a small, leather bound notebook filled with sketches, song ideas, journal entries, and practically any and everything that should actually have been separated into multiple notebooks. Next to it was a grey ballpoint pen with one-line-patterns which contrasted each other in looks, yet melded together almost seamlessly, carved into it. It had been a gift from the blade, who each gently carved in one line of the pattern personally.

A framed photo of Krolia and him on their first real vacation together was placed under a lamp on his nightstand. He had been 15 at the time, and they’d gone to Corsica for two weeks. Warmth spread through his heart when he remembered just how excited he’d been to even be on a plane for the first time, let alone spend two whole weeks in a different country. To say he talked his friends’s ears off about it was a bit of an understatement.

Two posters hung on his wall, one, obviously old with the many folds and the way some parts had been ripped and taped back together, of a kitten hanging off a branch with the words ‘Hang In There!’ over it in thick writing which kind of reminded Keith of bubblegum. It had been his very first poster, a gift from Romelle, and he’d be damned if he lost it. On the other side, a bigger one with multiple constellations drawn out on it and thin writing that said ‘THEY BELIEVE IN YOU’. Keith had found it a bit flattering for reasons he didn’t quite understand, plus he loved aliens, so he bought it without hesitation.

In the corner, right between his closet and his door, was his guitar, the same old acoustic one with worn stickers and faded out writing from years ago. In the opposite corner was his E-guitar, the one he was seen with on stage, packed in its bag, and next to it his violin, also packed in its bag. A necklace hung on the door handle right between the instruments. It was one of two custom ones that Lance and him had let make for themselves during Highschool, a thin, round dog tag engraved with the fire symbol he came up with on one side, and the paw print on the other. While the dog tag was made of white gold, the chain itself was made of silver. That necklace, along with the guitar, reminded him of times when red and blue blurred the lines of being two separate things, and instead became one gentle colour that was neither blue nor red, but an almost perfectly balanced mixture of both.

To most his room seemed a bit empty, but to him it was filled with memories of smiles and a feeling of belonging. He could calm down and fall asleep in it at any given time, no matter the events of the day.

“PALADINS! LIVING ROOM, FIVE MINUTES!” 

Unless this happened.

Resistance was futile, all you’d gain from it was the fate of being forcefully dragged down, and an extra lap because you, apparently, got some ‘extra nap time’, which was bullshit, in Keith’s humble opinion. Practically everyone except for Shiro and Lance had been unfortunate enough to face the cons that came with sleeping in, though the only reason Lance didn’t go through it all was because he had been lucky enough to have passed out downstairs on the day he did sleep in. 

With a groan Keith pushed himself off the bed, landing on the floor with a thud and an unimpressed sigh. Crawling to his closet ended up taking more time than he’d liked to admit, and opening it while remaining on the floor was only him asking to be late. He managed to open one door and pulled out whatever was on the top of two piles, leaving him with yet another ‘suck’ shirt he really regrets buying because he honestly has too many of those (don’t ask him why, he barely remembers buying any of them), and a pair of black jeans which looked like basically every other pair of jeans he owned.

“NUMBER FOUR!”

Keith groaned and finally, finally stood up, taking his time out of spite as he put his clothes on. When he came downstairs, Pidge was under Lance’s arm, clinging to him like a koala as they both tried not to doze off, Hunk chatted lightly with Shiro, while Coran and Allura discussed something in hushed tones.

The living room had filled with things too, a few books stacked on the coffee table next to a vase with a few freshly plucked flowers from outside. Daisies, dandelions, forget-me-nots and a single, pink rose. There was an empty picture frame on the wall, hung up by Lance and Hunk, the formerly stutteringly claiming ‘It’s for our future group photo!’ when Pidge had teased them about it.

“Number four! Seems like you took your time.” Coran said, judgement evident in his voice.

“Yeah, seems like I did.” He dismissed everyone’s exasperation, and made sure to sit on the side opposite to Lance, who started his daily glaring session. It was their off day, he was allowed to be that bitch.

Keith had no idea what was even up with the whole ‘number four’ and ‘paladins’ thing, but he decided it’d be healthier for all of them not to ask. He might figure it out on his own anyways. Maybe the numbers thing was how old they were? But Shiro was the oldest...

Allura snapped him out of his thoughts by clapping a few times to gain everyone’s attention. “Alright, now that we’re all here, we’d like to go over the plan for the next two weeks!”

“We spent the first week bonding and relaxing” Pidge scoffed at that, “so we’ll spend the next two weeks working together on an album! If you guys end up splitting up, we can simply call it a collab.” Allura announced.

“Wait wait, two weeks? For a whole album? All of us will be working on how many songs?” Hunk spoke up, worriedly looking around and seeing everyone seemingly agreeing on his slight panic.

“You’ll be split up in two teams, Shiro will be on both. Together each team writes three songs for the first week. Then a member of each team is switched, and those new teams write three more songs. That way we’ll have twelve songs in fourteen days, which is a pretty good length for an album!” She grinned at all the shocked faces.

“Are you insane!?” Pidge yelled, letting go of Lance to stand up and glare at Allura and Coran.

Lance shook his head, “Yeaaah, no. Nope. No, no, no, you can’t just work us to the bone and toy with us like a bunch of.. A bunch of...” he struggled.

“A bunch of toy workers.” Keith piped in, proud of himself when Lance gave an aggressive ‘Thank you, Keith!’ in response.

“Yeah, plus if we’re all working on one together, it’ll take even longer to agree on what we’ll write about, how we’ll write about it, and what melody we’ll use.” Hunk said, trying to sound just a bit calmer than the other three.

Allura bristled at the rejection and opened her mouth to argue back, but Shiro politely raised his hand before she could say anything. “Uh, hey, team captain speaking? Just wanna say that, while everyone here is right, Allura isn’t in the wrong either. We need to get something out within the next three months so that, if we stay together, we’ll have something to hit it off with.” He waited for everyone to take in his words and calm down before continuing, “I suggest we do the two week plan, but make it four weeks instead. We’ll go on a little outing on the first and third week for inspiration and whatnot, and we’ll work during the second and fourth week. Sound good?”

Everyone considered for a while, Allura and Coran looking between each member nervously, before Keith nodded his head, followed by Hunk, Lance and finally Pidge, who seemed to have weighed out the pros and cons of the newest option for about six times. Allura breathed a sigh of relief, and Coran quickly got with the program, pulling out a tablet and typing something into it. He turned it around to show them a picture of a cottage next to a lake surrounded by mountains. “The perfect place to get you in tune with yourselves and to get inspiration from the beautiful sounds of nature!”

Almost instantly Pidge’s face scrunched up and he shook his head. “Thanks, but no thanks. Mosquitos love me, and they get extra angry when I don’t love them back.” Disgust laced his voice so strongly that Coran immediately cringed away and looked for something else.

“You’re wasting your time, guys.” Lance spoke up, pulling Pidge back into his hold. “What we need is a beach, some chicks and dicks, and we’ll have years worth of Summer romance songs.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “Just ‘cause you wanna write another copy and paste song about your latest fling, doesn’t mean we do.” He deadpanned. Ignoring Lance’s following splutter, he suggested something of his own, “Why not just stay here? We’re isolated in ‘nature’, we’re close enough to the town for Lance’s romance, and we don’t have to stay in the car for hours.”

The words “Can you be more lame?!” left Lance’s mouth the same time Allura exclaimed “Excellent idea!”. Keith had never seen anyone look at someone so exasperatedly before. He decided he liked that look

“I am not staying here.” Lance said.

“Well _I’m_ not going to your beach orgy.”

“Not gonna lie, staying here sounds better than mosquitos and humans.”

“I’m fine with whatever?” 

“Can we just vote?” Shiro sighed, obviously wanting to end the whole debate and go back to doing whatever he had been before.

Since Coran, Lance and Keith weren’t allowed to vote for their own suggestions, the votes ended up being three for the cottage, one for home and three for the beach. They agreed that the cottage was that week’s trip, the beach would be the third week’s trip, and they’d stay at home to write everything down and adjust things without any distractions, which was a win win for everyone.

It disappointed Keith to no ends that they had to pack their stuff today instead of spending all that time tucked in, sleeping and eating fast food, but he couldn’t help the small wave of excitement that washed over him. The picture Coran had showed them looked gorgeous, and if the man could be trusted, then it was on private land, owned by Allura’s parents, which meant they had it all to themselves.

 

-

 

The familiar sound of a trumpet blaring downstair was what woke everyone up at four am. While they’d all agreed on the time, Keith couldn’t help but feel regret sting his every move as he groggily made his way downstairs. Thankfully they had a nine hour car ride to look forward to, which mean he could curl up in a corner and sleep his woes away.

Once everyone double checked and confirmed that yes, they didn’t forget anything, and no, they didn’t need to go to the toilet, Allura pushed them all into a white van in no particular order. That’s how Keith ended up at the back, on the left side of the van, with an empty space in between and Lance pressed to the other side. Pidge, Shiro and Hunk had already curled up in front of them, while Coran and Allura excitedly chatted about the week at the front. 

“Look, we’re both tired, so let’s just say you sleep on your side, I sleep on my side, and we stay far, far away from each other.” Keith sighed, wanting to get it over with.

Lance huffed and rolled his eyes, curling up on his seat and letting his eyes slip close without a word.

Keith tried his best to do the same.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m just really tired.


End file.
